Aurona, page 55
Warily, he turned back to monitor the Bitrons out of the corner of his eye. He just couldn’t shake off his suspicions. They were clumping into small, whispering groups, glancing repeatedly at him and loading their remaining ammo into their semiautomatics. A chill ran down his spine and he started to walk a little faster.
Trennic was clueless. Lingering a short distance away, he frowned. Something has been bothering him: only one of those weird shrubs seemed to be moving in the breeze. He wet a finger and held it up, testing. “Hmm, no wind….” Puzzled, he dropped to his knees to look closer. His plant was moving animatedly, but the one right next to it was totally rigid. “Huh?” Intrigued, he ducked under the branches to get out of the starship’s line of sight.
Dexor’s voice wafted in from the distance. “What in blazes are you doing??”
Trennic raised a finger. “Wait, wait! Gimme a sec!”
As Dexor peered around a tree, several Bitrons spotted him and ducked. There was a staccato chorus of clicks as they released their safeties.
“Get over here, you goon!” he hissed. “Now-w-w!”
Nastix scowled determinedly. He was tired of being bossed around, and besides, this bush was far too interesting. Mumbling to himself, he twisted down a stem to look at it closer. Unexpectedly, a loud warning buzz greeted his ears. “Huh?” He jerked his hand away. The stem slowly reassembled itself, straightening and bending upward. “You’re kidding!” he whispered.
He inched closer. As his warm breath hit the trunk’s rough, overlapping surface, the evenly-spaced bark finally gave away the shrub’s secret: a forest of antennae appeared, waved inquisitively, and then tucked away. His mouth flew open. As he tentatively poked the surface with his finger, the bark writhed and rearranged itself in response. “Ugh!” He stood up, totally disgusted, whacking the bush with the butt of his Stifler. “Bugs! They’re all bugs! “
In an explosion of color and sound, the entire plant flew apart, then another, and then another. Suddenly, in an enormous chain reaction, three square miles of undergrowth erupted in a roar of of beating wings and flying insects!
The scouting party panicked. Stiflers and semiautomatics were fired at random, the bullets and beams of light stabbing through the dense, hot-pink cloud.
A chilling scream rose above the din, pumping the adrenaline of pure insanity into the air: a stray bullet had just hit the tripod of the mighty Laser Cutter! It began to topple slowly, cutting through the platform’s railing like butter. Frothing at the mouth, the Scarred One clawed futilely at the heavy machine. He could only watch it fall, twisting and blazing great arcs of destruction. It hit the ground in a muffled explosion, disintegrating instantly.
The ultimate in damage had been done. As a great shadow darkened the forest, the scouting party felt a mighty wind at their backs. The air quickly cleared of flying insects. Alarmed, they spun around and looked up in horror: there was barely enough time to catch a glimpse of the massive, toppling Motherlode before it hit.
Adam’s eyes popped. “Yesss!!” Both of his fists stabbed the air. Elena, Duron, and the three warriors backed away warily as he leaped out of his gimbaled chair and danced around the small room in unrestrained exuberance. He spun toward them, his voice jubilant, euphoric. “I know where they are!”
“What??” Elena grabbed him by the arms. “Are you sure?”
“I’m stark, raving positive!”
Duron tested him, guardedly. “Tell us how you, ah … ‘know’ this?”
It took a lot of effort to calm him down, but his breathing finally slowed to a more even tempo. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and explained slowly. “Don’t ask me how, but in my mind’s eye I found myself traveling along some kind of electronic pathways and then out through some schematic junctions and relays. Somehow, I-I was able to ‘see’ that green gridwork you’ve been monitoring! Just now, it flashed and sent out this huge blue ripple! They’re on Benou, on the other side of the planet!”
Dexor drew back in shock, then nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I believe you, Adam. What is the best course of action? Remember, you are in command!”
Adam stopped short. “Yike, you’re right. I forget that part.” His mind spinning, he quickly formulated a plan. “Well, ah, here it is: first, we’re standing in what I’ve decided to call the ‘Phantom Cruiser.’ At least that’s what I always wanted to call this ship in my dreams. Ultimate stealth is one if this ship’s greatest assets, right?”
Duron nodded hesitantly. “You are correct…. And?”
Glancing at the big monitor, Adam lit up a bright schematic of Aurona and rotated the planet on its axis. “They’re right there, on that pulsing spot. I’m positive they’re totally on the watch. Every sensor aboard is on high alert, scanning the sky for the slightest abnormalities. If they see a thing they’ll be gone in a flash, so we’ve got to transition into this Cruiser’s advanced stealth mode. It may take a bit longer to get there, but I’ve got a few things up my sleeve while we’re on the way.” He pointed at the schematic once more. “That starship has to be delayed long enough to give us a chance to get there, but most of all, they can’t get suspicious. In other words, they shouldn’t have a clue that we’re the ones who are stopping them. I’ll set my plan in motion as we start traveling. We’ve got no time to lose.”
He slipped his arm around Elena’s waist. “Ah, I’m really sorry, oh mother-to-be, there’s only one chair. I-I’ve gotta sit up here in the flying bridge.”
She shrugged. “I’m fine with that, Adam. It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Hey,” she shrugged, “it’s safer downstairs. We’ll be connected by monitors.”
Nodding, he gave her hand a squeeze and turned to the others. “Okay, here’s the scoop: we’ll use shape-shifting and travel atmospheric at Mach 8, just above the ocean’s surface. Just before we reach their visual horizon, we’ll drop to subsonic at a fifty-mile perimeter. Then, we’ll slip in and snoop.”
The Old One’s head tilted. “What is…?”
“Spy,” Elena interjected quickly. “We’ll be right next to them and they won’t suspect a thing, right Adam?”
He grinned. “Right in their lap, baby!”
A great bubble of seawater broke the surface above Meseo, releasing the Phantom Cruiser into a stormy ocean. Crackling and popping in a spectacular light show, it pierced the salty air with a tremendous aurora of static discharge. A vision from the future and built for speed, Adam’s dream ship was far smaller and infinitely more agile than any of its predecessors. It hugged the surface of the ocean closely as it skimmed and danced like an acrobat between the crests of the waves, gathering speed in a runner’s sprint toward the distant continent of Benou. The sound barrier’s threshold proved to be no threshold at all: the Cruiser’s enormous static discharge coupled with its ultimate shape-shifting capabilities seemed to open an atmosphere-free tunnel toward the bright, empty horizon.
The last of the dust was finally settling. As Dexor regained consciousness and began to move, he writhed in agony. Both of his legs were broken in several places, pinned under a massive Arren tree. With concerted effort, he lifted his head to look around. His gun was nowhere in sight and alien bodies were scattered everywhere, one hanging limply from a tree. He groaned, knowing that it would be just a matter of time before the jungle would claim them all. Suddenly, he heard a muttering and scraping sound. He gritted his teeth and pushed up on his elbow.
Cursing, Nastix and Trennic were pulling themselves up a steep slope. They’d missed death by inches, thrown through the air by a great tremor as the Motherlode’s unthinkable mass buckled the planet’s crust.
His memory was returning, and Dexor fell back shuddering. He’d caught a quick glimpse of the Laser Cutter as it zapped and sizzled through the Motherlode’s dense wood: the angle of the cut couldn’t have been more perfect. As the great tree’s shadow outlined its area of impact, there’d been absolutely no time to cry out. The Bitrons probably never knew what hit them.
Summoning all his strength, he sat up. With the Motherlode gone, the starship was flashing brightly in the sunlight, hovering and spinning madly above the grassy plain. Debris was still flying off the hull. What was that? The sound of distant, maniacal laughter reached his ears. He rolled his eyes and groaned: yes, it had been a setup.
As the big saucer slowed down from its crazy spin, he could see the Scarred One’s black robes flapping in the breeze as he hung precariously from a broken rail. A single, clawed hand was all that kept him from flying to the ground, but he was tenacious and wiry. Dexor watched him struggle against the centrifugal force, then regain his footing. As he climbed over the rail and disappeared into the depths of the starship, he gnashed his teeth in total, helpless frustration.
A drama of a different sort had taken place inside the starship. As a massive Arren branch had bashed into the resilient hull and set it spinning, the four remaining Bitrons in the control room couldn’t crawl back against the tremendous centrifugal force. Down in the Quarantine room, the crew had been flung against the outer walls in a jumbled heap. As the spin slowed, they started to roll off onto the floor. The gold had been thrown outward too, tons of it. They could hear the muffled wrenching as it settled, crumbling through the storeroom walls in the distance. Although the hull was constructed of an impermeable alloy, the inner walls were not.
The spinning finally stopped. They crawled off each other, their hearts hammering. Miraculously, no one had been badly hurt; several had sprains and bruises but nobody had any broken bones, or worse, killed. They looked up, startled, as a great shudder passed through the starship. Quite evidently, someone was at the controls and they’d just turned the Artificial Gravity back on.
As the Scarred One lurched off the commander’s bronze elevator and sprinted into the control room, three panicked Bitrons sat hunched over the displays, their fingers wildly jabbing at random buttons. Nearby, a fourth one laid limply, his neck broken. He drew in a long breath. “Yaaa-a-ah!!” As the monitors rattled, they spun around, pale and bruised. “How could this be?” he thundered. “What happened?”
A Bitron raised a hesitant finger. “We saw how it happened, sir. Some kind of plant-animal mimic started some kind of chain reaction!”
“Wha-a-a-at??”
Another one piped up. “Thousands of bushes just … exploded!”
The third one found his courage. “That’s right! They actually….” As the beady eyes narrowed, his voice trailed off. The Scarred One wordlessly opened his cloak to reveal his countless rows of pocketed stilettos. They got the message.
“Strap in,” he hissed. “We’re leaving!”
They scrambled back into their chairs and initiated the liftoff sequence. The outer platforms closed with a bang, the external sensors retracted into the hull, and the great antigrav engines began to rev for the takeoff. Smiling smugly, the Scarred One bent to the controls. Yes, everything was going according to plan.
The jungles of Benou swept under them. As they drew closer, Adam zeroed in on the big clearing to assess the damage. “Holy smoke, guys! Someone just made a major goof,” he whispered. “A big time goof!”
Duron’s voice cut in. “Oh, no, one of our Motherlodes? It takes centuries to…. Wait! They are about to leave, Adam! Our sensors show it plainly!”
“Okay, okay,” Adam mumbled. “I’m landing right next to them in the clearing at Level 4 Cloaking….” He quickly became lost in a trance. In his mind’s eye, he entered his stolen starship and sped along its familiar pathways, burrowing inward toward his personal locker on level M. “Ah, there it is, my old, dented e-helmet!” As he pushed hard with his mind, it flickered to life. Narrow bars of light filtered out through the locker’s louvers into the hallway.
The smirk suddenly disappeared from the Scarred One’s face. Nothing was happening! Focusing intently, he carefully initiated the liftoff sequence once more, deliberately and precisely pushing and turning each button and bar. He leaned back and waited…. Nothing happened!
There was a long, pregnant pause, then a white-knuckled fist slammed down onto the control panel in total frustration. “Yaaa-a-ah!!” He leaped out of his chair, straps and buckles flying. The Bitrons scrambled to the far side of the room: they knew what was coming; they’d seen it far too often.
A shaking, scrawny finger slid out of its sleeve, pointing at them accusingly. “You-u-u!!” he hissed. “You broke my ship! You just sat here and let it happen!!”
There it was, the froth was dribbling from the corners of his mouth. The steam was rising, the momentum was building, and the flawed line of presumptive, accusatory reasoning was percolating. In their gut, the three Bitrons knew no amount of sound facts or legitimate excuses could calm him down. They tensed to run.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
As they made a step toward the door, it slid shut quite by itself and locked with a decided click. They spun around in horror, raising their arms and fearing the worst. The Scarred One wasn’t interested in them, however; his beady eyes were focusing on the control panel. A small, flashing light was scrolling by with an extremely unwelcome message.
“Override … Main Control Panel … Override … Main Control Panel….”
His head jerked up. An external monitor showed the ground level slowly coming up, then all went blank as the big saucer settled onto its landing struts.
Adam let out a long, nervous breath and looked around. Now that this first order of business had been taken care of, he could plainly see how the mysterious, unfortunate chain of events had unfolded. Without question, it involved the Bitron’s mighty Laser Cutter and resulted with an enormous fallen Motherlode.
Suddenly, the Phantom Cruiser’s external sensors flashed: their infrared readings were showing three life forms stirring near a big Arren trunk! With a sinking feeling, he hoped and prayed they weren’t all that was left of his crew. He checked the rest of the jungle. Nothing moved; the mighty crash had terrified all the life forms.
He quickly shifted his attention back to the interior of his starship. Concentrating intently, he scrolled through menu after submenu inside his old e-helmet, turning on lights in various storerooms, searching in earnest for someone, anyone. Each room’s monitor showed pretty much the same thing, and he didn’t like what he saw: buckled walls, clogged corridors, and caved-in floors. Finally, he detected a movement on the bottom level. Immediately, he hit the switches and flooded the big Quarantine room with light.
“Yes!” He jumped in his seat. “Pay dirt!” Excitedly, he patched the view through to Elena and Duron’s monitors below. “There ya go,” he whispered quietly, “we still have our crew! I can’t crank up audio yet; someone might be lurking in the hallways.”
In the storeroom, the hostages rose to their feet, shielding their eyes in the bright light and fearing the worst. Someone raised a shaking hand and pointed wordlessly. The top of an entire wall had been ripped open, the twenty-foot gash revealing the sawed-off stumps of an enormous pile of gold roots!
Chapter 30: MIND GAMES
The tension had become unbearable in the control room. Abandoning their efforts to pry open the massive bronze door, the three remaining Bitrons retreated into a corner, wide-eyed with fear. Suddenly behind them, the stench of putrid breath wafted into their nostrils. They recoiled, gagging and covering their mouths.
“Yes-s-s, we’re trapped and someone knows it!” the Scarred One rasped.
“W-what?” one of them choked. “You mean you didn’t close the door?”
“No I didn’t!” he snapped. “Now, guess with me: That someone has a name…?”
A second Bitron uncovered his mouth. “A-Adam?” he squeaked.
The smirking face said it all. “Back from the dead,” he whined. “Somehow, somewhere, he’s caused a system override. Now listen: we’re all in this together, so let’s put our heads together and see if we can work as a cohesive group. We should be able to come up with some kind of an escape plan, right?”
They exchanged suspicious glances. Was this just another, even more treacherous side of this one’s demented character? A ploy to worm his way back into their trust? Wavering with uncertainty, they waited in silence.
He continued smoothly, his voice like butter. “Now, let’s see. We’ll need a list of resources in the room, anything nonelectronic, purely mechanical.” He gestured at the ceiling. “You could start poking around up there. Just a suggestion, mind you. Ventilation shafts, cable chases, any opening will be considered.”
The last Bitron finally recovered. “Ah, hidden wall panels, sir?”
“Good idea!” There was the faintest hint of sarcastic, smirking derision, but it was reeled in quickly. “Oh, and while you’re at it, check out the closets and cabinets and under the consoles.” He turned away, rubbing his skinny palms together. “Now as for me, I’m going to pry a bit myself! This override can be overridden!”
Adam heard a faint ping and glanced up. A runic button was glowing on the bottom corner of his big screen, translating as ‘Deep-X.’” He focused on it, pushed gently, and a short menu dropped. “Wow, what’s this?” He leaned forward excitedly, scrolling through the options. You’re kidding! It does all this stuff??”
He snapped on an external monitor to study the surface of his stolen starship. His system override had disabled the cloaking device, leaving it fully open to scrutiny. It sat quietly on the far side of the clearing, the shields up. Although debris was still sliding off its smooth, domed top, one of the cargo bays was hanging open and smoke was rising from an object under the hull, it looked relatively undamaged. He breathed a sigh of relief, turned on the first option, then leaned forward excitedly. “Good night! This is crazy, crazy stuff!” Impulsively, he channeled the mind-bending display to the monitors below, and there was an immediate response.
